


Mystery Man

by The_White_Rabbit42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Masquerade, Strangers to Lovers, hunter reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 21:26:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16312970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42
Summary: You couldn't stop thinking about him: your mysterious stranger from the masquerade.





	Mystery Man

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr request: Gadreel and Masquerade  
> Follow me on tumblr at @thewhiterabbit42.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him: your mysterious stranger from the masquerade.  He’d swept you off your feet in every sense of the phrase. You hadn’t thought it possible to dance as much as you did, mostly because you were terrible at it, but he made you feel as though you were a natural, gently guiding you through the various steps, twirls, and turns.  

 

You talked for hours, mostly on the dance floor, your bodies slowly drawing ever closer as the evening wore on.  He was sweet, attentive, charming, a gentleman in a way that neither felt forced nor condescending. He might have also been the only person you’d heard drop the line  _ I could listen to you talk for hours  _ and actually mean it.  

 

You almost had to.  It took a fair amount of coaxing to get him to speak about himself, and when he did, you could feel the tension rolling through his solid frame.  You watched him blossom over the course of the evening. The way he talked about his family: full of devotion and love. How he wanted to make them proud, to be a better person, to make a difference in the world.  

 

Every murmured confession, every story he shared, brought you closer together, and the last dance you shared was in comfortable silence, your head against his chest as you listened to the slow and steady beat of his heart.  You had never felt more safe than you did in his arms, and you had to reluctantly peel yourself away from him at the end. 

 

“Until we meet again,” he promised, bowing low to place a kiss on the back of your hand before you got into your car and left.  You were in such a dazed dream that it wasn’t until you got back to the bunker that you realized you hadn’t even asked his name.  He knew yours, however. The town you lived in. Your “roomates” first names. 

 

“Why didn’t you just give him our address and a key to the bunker while you were at it?”  Dean had groused, but when he saw how happy you were, his irritability lessened to brotherly chiding.  

 

The man became all you thought about in your spare time, your curiosity and imagination running wild.  You wondered what it would be like to bump into him. Would he recognize you if he saw you again? Would you even know it was him if you ran into him at the grocery store or on a hunt?  Had it already happened, your chance slipping by as the two of you passed like ships in the night, unaware of each other’s presence?

 

Days turned into weeks, and the reality of the situation set in.  You would likely never see him again. As enchanting as the night had been, that was all it would be: one night.  

 

Another month passed, and you managed to convince yourself it was for the best.  If he was as wonderful as you thought him to be, he didn’t deserve to be dragged into the type of life you had.  He should be out at boring barbecues and having babies whose jawline could also cut glass and devastate. You weren’t going to spend your life pouting about it.  

 

Drinking, on the other hand, was a whole different matter.  

 

You pushed your way into the bunker, hands full of plastic bags and the two six packs you had picked up for the boys.  It was your standard burger and beer night, though you’d picked up a handle of your own poison in preparation for the aching disappointment that ambushed you late at night when you were alone.  

 

You had just made your way down the stairs toward the kitchen when you heard the brothers talking.  

 

“We’re glad you decided to stop in.  We could actually use your help on something that came up recently,” Dean began and you slowed your steps.  Great. You had company. The last thing you wanted to do was entertain. 

 

You hoped it wasn’t Gabriel.  You did  _ not  _ have the energy for that being right now, though the way Dean had said they were glad to see their guest suggested it was not the smug archangel.  

 

“Hey,” you greeted, moving straight across the kitchen to drop your bags without so much as looking at the trio standing around the table.  

 

“Good timing.  This is Gadreel.  Gadreel, y/n,” Dean introduced.  

 

You took a moment to unload your arms and turned, ready to plaster a forced but friendly smile on your face.  The moment your eyes landed on your guest, you froze, your mind grinding to a halt before kicking into overdrive as you took in the size of him.  

 

It couldn’t be.  

 

“He’s an angel,” Sam added, noting the way you stared.  

 

Angel.  Oh  _ god  _ he was an angel.  You tried to convince yourself the familiarity was just wishing thinking, because having a crush on a divine being must have constituted some form of blasphemy, but there was no way you’d ever forget a jaw like that.  

 

“I believe we’ve already had the pleasure of meeting.”  A smile crept across his face, stoic features brightening as he made his way closer.  “Y/n…” he repeated, testing your name out on his tongue. He gently took your hand and brought them to his lips, drawing attention to his anxious but sparkling green gaze as he waited for your reaction.  

 

“Gadreel…”

 

He had exactly one second to take in your beaming smile before you did what you wished you had all those weeks ago, and pulled him in for a kiss.  


End file.
